


Honey, We’re Insta-Worthy People

by Kissed_by_Circe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Instagram, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissed_by_Circe/pseuds/Kissed_by_Circe
Summary: “Hon, I’ve seen your insta. Tall, dark, handsome, wolf tattoo on a very toned stomach? The pictures you’ve been posting the last few months speak a very clear message,” Myranda says with a cheeky grin, and Sansa almost chokes on her now lukewarm drink. Maybe some of the photos might hint at something, but her and Jon are friends, nothing more and nothing less, and she mentally goes over her insta feed to try and think of the offending pictures.Sansa really doesn't want to go to the same wedding as her ex, but maybe it won't be so bad with Jon as her fake lover...
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 192





	Honey, We’re Insta-Worthy People

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, not edited, not sure if it survived whatever my brother-in-law did with my computer 😅 
> 
> Sansa's dress looks a bit [like this](https://www.pinterest.de/pin/387942955401775688/)

I.

Sansa likes Myranda, she really does, but sometimes it’s just _so hard_.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again, I’ve already had lunch with Mya,” she chokes out between clenched teeth, trying too much to keep her smile in place. It still looks natural – she’s a rather skilled actress, and even if one of the other patrons in the elegant restaurant with the insta-worthy view of the Vale would take a closer look at the two young women, they’d never guess that they’re both trying to avoid talking about her ex-boyfriend.

“I still can’t believe that you and Don are having a big white wedding with the whole family,” Sansa mumbles, and Myranda nods. “You know how Anya is, she wants everyone to be there.” _Which includes Harry_ , but she doesn’t have to say that part out loud, and Sansa almost cringes. Seeing him again isn’t something she’s looking forward to, but he’s Don’s foster brother and they want him at the wedding, no matter how he broke her heart.

It won’t be too bad, she hopes, as long as she can avoid him during the wedding –

“Saffron will be one of my bridesmaids, I’m really sorry,” Myranda adds, and she _does_ look sorry. Sansa tries to look like she’s not really interested in Harry or the girl he got pregnant while they were still dating, and Myranda clasps her hand over hers on the table. “I’m not saying this because I want to hurt you, I just want you to be prepared,” she grimaces, and Sansa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Well, they got married, and they have two children now.” Her friend looks like she just had to rip off a band aid, and Sansa tries to hide her grimace behind a sip of her drink. So, he was really busy during the last two years, while she couldn’t hold onto a relationship longer than three weeks with the few guys she went out with. _Great_.

And the only thing worse than seeing her ex with his beautiful wife and their beautiful children, during their mutual friends’ wedding only three days from now, will be the way everyone will look at her, eyes full of pity and mouths full of gossip. _Oh, that’s Sansa Stark, she’s cold as ice, no one would seriously date her, she’ll always be alone, don’t put her on the singles table she’ll ruin everyone else’s good luck._

“Maybe it would’ve helped if you brought your new beau, and I’m not just saying this because I want to meet him – don’t get me wrong, I’m really curious about him – but I think that it’d be good if you weren’t on your own? Maybe he could come down here, even just for a day?” Myranda offers, and Sansa doesn’t have her face under control enough to keep from frowning in confusion. She hasn’t had a real beau in over two years, ever since she walked in on Harry holding an ultrasound picture and decided to focus on her career instead.

_(That song was right, diamonds last longer than most men’s affections do, but while that campaign was a huge success, a bracelet or a pair of earrings won’t hold you warm at night, at least not like a lover does.)_

“Hon, I’ve seen your insta. Tall, dark, handsome, wolf tattoo on a very toned stomach? The pictures you’ve been posting the last few months speak a very clear message,” Myranda says with a cheeky grin, and Sansa almost chokes on her now lukewarm drink. Maybe some of the photos might hint at something, but her and Jon are friends, nothing more and nothing less, and she mentally goes over her insta feed to try and think of the offending pictures.

“Jon and I – we’re not – he’s friends with Robb –“ she tries to explain, but then a pictures flashes before her eyes, not Jon sitting close to her at the campfire, or holding her und swinging her around before he throws her into the pool of her parents’ house, or laughing at each other during movie night, all those snaps Robb, bless his heart, has managed to catch during the last few months, but an image of Myranda’s face, going from grinning eagerness to sad pity when she finds out that the closest Sansa has come to an actual relationship is pinning for her brother’s friend, who also happens to be her _own_ platonic best friend.

Maybe it’s a bad idea, borne off an ill-fated meetup with an old friend from school mere days before she’ll see her only serious ex-boyfriend again, but somehow, she opens her mouth and lowers her voice and says the words that might will haunt her forever. “It’s nothing serious, we’re just fooling around. He and Robb are really close, so we’ve kept it a secret the last few months. If it doesn’t work out then nobody gets hurt, and if it turns into something more – I don’t know yet, it’s all really casual right now,” she whispers, and Myranda nods along.

“Oh, you should totally bring him as your _plus one,_ don’t say no, the Waynwood cousin I wanted to hook you up with isn’t coming, we have enough room, it’s no problem – and you’d have some time away from your family where you can have lots of PDA, that way you can see if your relationship works outside of the bedroom, _without_ having to fear that your brother finds out about you. And believe me, judging from the way he looks at you in those pictures he wants to have your babies!” Myranda is almost squealing with joy, and all Sansa can think is shit, shit, _shit_.

II.

“I’m so sorry, but that’s _him_ ,” she explains a few minutes later, and Myranda nods and mouths _have fun with your booty call_ and they hug goodbye. Sansa answers the video call as soon as she’s outside, and almost regrets it. “You didn’t have to call me _that_ fast,” she murmurs, trying not to look at the screen, at _him_ , while she waves for a cab. “I heard your ringtone, and I was worried, and I didn’t think about anything but calling you,” he confesses, and adds, “and this will probably scare most guys off.”

He shrugs, and her gaze is locked on the way his shoulders move.

“Well, I’m sorry for, um, disturbing your bath,” she cringes, and wants to slap herself, and maybe crawl through the phone and into his bubble bath ( _which looks suspiciously like the bath bomb that went missing when she started using his bathroom last month, because her roommate keeps hogging their own_ ) and his smile and his “You could never disturb me, love” might be her undoing.

He gathers some of the foam with his arms, and it’s both a shame, because that body shouldn’t be hidden under rainbow-coloured, super bubbly foam, but also, she can’t think with his bare chest on display like that, and she’s momentarily confused when he asks her why she texted a distress signal, but then she sighs. “Well, I did something really stupid, and now I’m in an awkward situation, or it will be an awkward situation. Do you remember what I told you about this wedding?”

Jon, _of course_ , remembers everything she told him, all of her fears about Harry being there and of being pitied for being single and everything. “And then Myranda asked if I had a boyfriend, and I said I had a casual thing with someone, just so that she wouldn’t pity me, _too_ , and I might have said your name,” she whispers into the phone, because she doesn’t want the cab driver to hear everything, and Jon frowns that adorable thinking frown of his.

“Do you – should I – do you want me to cancel on my grandma, and come to the Vale and pretend to be your boyfriend?” he offers at last, and there’s an ache deep in her stomach, because she wants him to be her boyfriend for real, but she just nods and tries to smile. _She’s so deep in shit right now._

III.

Jon has two questions, and the first one is easier to answer than the second. Their cover story isn’t much of a cover story – they’ll mostly stick to the truth and only pretend like there’s a sexual side to their relationship and maybe more, but it’s just a weekend, and they’re pretty sure that they’ll manage to keep it up without any hijacks. The second thing is a bit more difficult.

“What about PDA? Would you be okay with kissing in front of others? Do we have to kiss to make it convincing?” he asks on the way from the train station to the hotel, making her thoughts whirl around in her head. She wants to kiss him, but not like that, and to be honest, she didn’t think about this part of the deal yet. “I think it would be better if we kept the kissing to a minimum, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she offers, and he nods along.

“And other things? Holding hands, touching, things like that? Do you want me to be the sexiest, touchiest boy toy over?” She’s lost at the mere thought of Jon touching her, let alone the thought of calling him her boy toy, and so she simply shrugs. “Do what you’re comfortable with. I trust you not to cross a line,” she says, and she means it. She knows that Jon would never get too handy with her, and the fact that she’s head over heels for him and wouldn’t mind his touches like she’d mind other guys’ plays into that, too.

The way Jon looks at her, both content with her trust and hopeful at the same time, is lost on her, and he pauses for a moment. “How about we get a safe word – in case you want me to stop doing something, or want me to come to your rescue?” he suggests, and Sansa wonders what it was like when he was undercover at work some years ago, before she furrows her brow and thinks about a good word. “I’d call you _babe_ , if that’s okay. That’s what Harry used to call me, and I hated it, and no one would think it suspicious?” “Okay, _babe_ it is,” Jon agrees with a grin, and holds out his hand.

“If I put my hand in your back pocket, would you call me _babe_?” he asks, and Sansa laughs. “No, I wouldn’t, _love_.”

IV.

The sad thing about Jon’s attention is that it reminds her of all of her exes, and how most of them weren’t half as sweet on her as her _accidental-roommate_ -turned- _fake-boyfriend_ is, and she wonders how she managed to be with them, when Jon’s simple touches turn her on more than all that’s happened with the other guys in her bed and her shower combined. The way he squeezed her hip when they met with Myranda and Don was oddly reassuring, and she doesn’t think that she’d make it through the rehearsal dinner without his hand on her bare back, his fingers on her butt, his arm around her waist, toying with the pearl necklace that accentuates the deep back of her dress when they’re standing, and holding onto her thigh when they’re sitting down, and randomly kissing her fingers, her temple, even her _shoulder_ , when he goes to get her another drink.

She’s leaning into him, half of her body covering his, talking to some old friends, when she spots Harry in the lobby, apparently also on his way back to his room, and Jon can probably feel her stiffen against him, because suddenly his lips are on her neck, just for a moment, and he whispers into her ear, asking her if she’s okay. “I’ve seen Harry,” she whispers back, and he turns them a bit so that he can see Harry, and so that Harry can see his fingers dipping under the fabric of her dress, caressing the bare skin of her waist.

She hopes that Harry won’t come over to them, but it’s just her luck that they all need to ride the same elevator, and Saffron throws her arms around Sansa before she can even realise what’s going on. “Oh my _gods_ , San–sa, it’s so good to see you ag-again,” she squeals, and Jon grabs her elbow to steady her, while Harry looks pained, his eyes flickering between the two women. “She’s drunk, it’s her first time drinking since Jasper’s birth,” he tries to explain, and Saffron leans into Sansa as if they’re close friends.

“You were right, you were so right when you _duuumped_ him,” she stage whispers, and laughs. “I thought that I could change him, but you know, once a cheater, always a cheeeater. But he’s not my problem anymore,” she shrugs, and Harry tries to shush her, while Sansa looks at Jon with her eyebrows raised. _So much for the picture happy family_. “Honey, I said that we’re going to talk this out later,” Harry tries to tell his wife, but she shakes her head, and, suddenly almost sober, mumbles “You know that the kids and I are going to move out, and that I’m going back to working for my father.”

She’s steady enough when they reach her floor, and Jon holds the elevator for a moment to see and make sure that she gets into her room – a female voice greets her, probably another bridesmaid – and the rest of the ride is even more awkward, with Harry clearly thinking that he might get back together with Sansa, now that his marriage is over, and only stopping when she says something about Jon being wonderful, and kissing his throat to drive the point home, and somehow the kiss escalates, and when they get out of the elevator, she has her legs wrapped around Jon’s waist and his hands in her hair and under her dress and Harry looks like he might kill them when he disappears into the room right next to hers.

They’re giggling when they stumble into their room, and Jon puts a finger on her mouth and looks down at her with a serious expression. “How much do you want to torture him?” he asks, and she grins and whispers “ _Yes_.” “You wanna play a bit, make him think we’re having fun?” he suggests, and instead of an answer, she moans loudly. “Yes, right _there_ , Jon, that’s – that’s the – oh gods _yes_.”

His eyes are so dark she could drown in them, and she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, just that she wants this to be real more than anything, and when he starts telling her loudly how sexy and how hot and how wet and how tight she is, she decides to take her chance. It’s a risk – maybe he doesn’t think about her like that, maybe it’s just a game or he doesn’t want to risk their friendship, but she thinks that he must be into her in some way with how he touched her all day long.

Her dress doesn’t go with a bra, and she’s a bit scared when she fumbles with the bow holding it together at the back of her neck, and she’s both grateful and scared because Jon’s back is turned to her. She mumbles his name, and he turns his head in time to see the dress fall to the floor, and suddenly the silence is deafening. His gaze jumps from the dress lying on the floor, over her bare legs to her panties, before it clings to the curves of her naked chest, his mouth hanging open, and she feels panic rising for a moment, before he takes a step towards her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and she smiles in relief when he takes her in his arms.

V.

They keep Harry up almost the whole night, and Jon thinks that revenge tastes sweetest when it involves pressing Sansa Stark against the only wall separating them from her shitty ex, hooking her thigh over his shoulder, and making her scream his name. The only problem last night has brought him is that he’s not sure if it’s all real. Did she mean everything she said and did, was it all just an act, is he just a boy toy, or, worse, just a piece in a game of revenge against her ex?

Don’t get him wrong, he wants to make her happy, wants to do everything in his power to help her with whatever she needs, but not if she’s only playing with him. If she tells him that she only wanted revenge, then he’ll walk out of here without looking back, and if she says that she only wanted sex then he’ll go back to being her friend and nothing more and start looking for a girl that wants to be with him, but if she tells him that she _likes_ him –

“Morning, handsome.” Her voice is a bit rough, and he has to admit that he likes it very much. He can’t help but smile at her, and his heart hurts from hoping and fearing. She’s laying on top of him, their legs tangled, and she squints at the clock on the nightstand, before nuzzling into his chest again. “It’s much too early, who gets married this early?” she complaints, and he grins at her, even as he feels her fingers playing with his bellybutton and her words playing with his heart.

“I won’t get married this early, I can tell you that,” she mumbles into his chest, and he chuckles at that. “Maybe the future Mr Stark will have a say in that, too,” he answers, and he can feel her pouting. “I’d need a future Mr Stark for that first,” she grumbles, and then, quieter and without thinking, “maybe you could play that part as well.” He’s sure that he doesn’t need his heart anymore, with how it’s being torn apart by her words, and when she sits up suddenly and covers her eyes, his first instinct is to comfort her.

“Oh gods, forget that I said that, I didn’t want to be weird like that.” She sounds mortified, and Jon’s always been called brave, but when he takes a deep breath and tries to sound casually, he feels more scared than he ever has before. “Maybe you could buy me dinner first, you know, before we discuss our wedding?” he mumbles, stroking her arm to calm her down, and she nods so hard she almost falls out of bed.


End file.
